


Embrace #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 22

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [22]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffableValentines2020, 6000 Years of Love (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Anal Sex, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley's Bodyswap (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Bus Ride (Good Omens), Pre-Scene: Body Swap (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sex, The Night After the Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Valentines, ineffable valentines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: After the bus ride home, an angel and a demon face up to their own mortality in fear of what may come next, and decide to make the most of whatever time they have left together. 6000 years of missed opportunities to confess their love for one another culminates in an unexpected result that might just save their lives.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618783
Comments: 19
Kudos: 174
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020, Top Crowley Library





	Embrace #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 22

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).



The bus stopped. The driver mildly confused but in a peculiarly blissed out state of mind that told him that nothing was wrong, and it was honestly just easier to play along with whatever was happening. A smart apartment block in Mayfair wasn’t exactly where he had planned to end his shift, but the rather generous overtime payment that mysteriously landed in his bank account the next day more than made up for whatever just happened, and he didn’t question it.

One angel and one demon, hand in hand, alighted and made their way indoors.

Crowley’s exhaustion was bone deep, he desperately wanted to sleep. Damn the fact that he shouldn’t need to, his corporeal form had got into the habit and was bitching about it. He told it to shut up.

Because the single most electrifying thing in his entire life was happening right now, courtesy of a warm, comforting angelic hand pressed against his, as it had been since Tadfield, and he didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

They entered the building hand in hand, ascended in the elevator the same way, down the hallway, and through his front door, never once breaking contact. Crowley wanted to cry for the aching beauty of it. He resisted, for now.

They stood in his apartment, side by side and silent. He stood on the heel of one boot and eased it off, then repeated the action with the other, kicking them aside. He removed his shades and plonked them on the table. Aziraphale watched him silently. Crowley lifted his eyes to meet the angel’s. He sought for words that wouldn’t come. He knew hundreds of languages, but not a single one of them held an assemblance of words sufficient to form a sentence which could say what he needed to.

He squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. The angel squeezed it back with a gentle smile.

Crowley took a step forward, into Aziraphale’s personal space, and paused. Aziraphale caught his breath, but stood unwavering, his grip tightening just slightly in apprehension. They gazed into each other’s eyes. No words would suffice here. Crowley was reverting to the most primal, wordless body language to read the expression of the angel who he’d known for so long that he could read the expression in every line of his face like it was the most beautifully illuminated manuscript.

And the angel’s face was illuminated with gentle expectation, understanding, yearning and the purest glow of love. His delicate pink lips parted slightly, and he swayed gently toward Crowley.

Crowley lifted his free hand to touch Aziraphale’s face gently, and dipped his forehead to rest against the angel’s. They closed their eyes for a moment, and stood chest to chest, breathing, hearts pounding, steadying one another.

He opened his eyes to meet Aziraphale’s, blue-grey and gentler than he’d ever seen them before, the angel searching his expression, pleading for something. Crowley understood what.

Their lips met.

Crowley felt the angel release his hand, then felt Aziraphale’s skimming up his back, coming to rest at the nape of his neck, warm and tender, whilst the other cupped his cheek. Crowley’s arm snaked around Aziraphale’s waist, tugging him close, and his other raked up through his soft blonde curls as he moaned into the kiss. It was so slow and gentle, lips pressing in a soft slide, tongues questing without urgency, and a golden glow of love flowed through the contact, filling the void where his grace used to be, replacing the darkness with a sudden firework bright eruption of light that exploded through his entire body and soul, tearing it apart with the intensity of the angel’s love, almost painful, searing heat and unspoken insistence that Crowley was loved to the very core of his being, brooking no debate, no argument, that Crowley was anything but good, and worthy of receiving such love.

You would think that the experience would leave him even more tongue tied, but somehow it helped soothe his mind enough to find the words, insufficient as they may be, to come close to saying what he wanted to. He reluctantly broke off, tears in his eyes, and saw that Aziraphale’s were wet with tears too. One spilled over onto the angel’s cheek, and he bent forward to kiss it away tenderly.

“My love.” He simply stated.

Aziraphale nodded and smiled even as tears of happiness escaped. “Crowley, my love.”

“I have wanted to do this for so long, Aziraphale. I’ve tried to protect you for so long by denying myself this, by denying  _ us _ this. But I can’t leave this existence without showing you how I feel. They’ll come for us, my love. And they’ll destroy us…” his voice cracked and he broke down in tears at this point.

Aziraphale’s arms were around him, crushing him tight, hands in his hair, face pressed close to Crowley’s shoulder, just holding him, as if, if he held the demon tight enough he could stop the inevitable from happening to them both, could squeeze the pair of them out of the universe and into another dimension altogether, safe from heaven and hell.

Crowley sobbed. “I can’t die without knowing what it felt like to love you, and for you to know it.”

Aziraphale continued to stroke his hair and pulled his head back a little to seek his gaze. “I’ve always known it, and it’s torn my heart in two all this time not to be allowed to tell you, I’m so sorry, Crowley, I truly am. I thought I could protect you, too. I suppose we were both wrong. But we have  _ now _ , my love. We’re here  _ now _ and I want to show you too, I want to know what it feels like to love you, and for you to know it too, before whatever happens… happens.”

He kissed Crowley again, soft and beautiful. “Let’s make the most of now, my love. And if they come for us, let them find us as we are, together, on our own side against them, in defiance of whatever they think they stand for. I’d rather die in your arms than live an eternity without you.”

It was too much for Crowley, he broke down in tears anew, and clasped Aziraphale’s face in both hands, covering every inch of it in a flurry of desperate kisses, before plunging forward into a deep and passionate kiss that crushed their lips together hard enough to bruise. Aziraphale’s hands grabbed at his arms and back, squeezing hard as he returned every ounce of passion in Crowley’s kiss with his own.

When they broke for air, Aziraphale was flushed, but determined. “Crowley, will you show me, will you love me? Will you  _ make _ love to me?” Crowley nodded, golden eyes clear in their sincerity. He scooped Aziraphale up in his deceptively strong arms, finely corded muscles lifting him with ease, and carried him to the bedroom. He laid his angel down on the soft dark sheets, and kissed him some more for good measure. He laid a hand over his heart, feeling it’s pounding urgency under his ribs, then stood and let his fingers trail slowly off Aziraphale’s body.

Crowley stood gazing down at his angel as he slowly undressed. Slipping his tie off, shedding his jacket and allowing it to fall to the floor in an untidy crumpled pile where it fell. He hoisted his shirt up and over his head, revealing his lean, hard torso. Shadows of ribs, curves of wiry musculature and a dusting of pale red hair down his chest, diminishing south of his pectorals, and growing again as it trailed down toward his jeans, scandalously low on his snake hips, those sharp hip bones jutting out enough to make a V pointing down to a promise of other, more tantalising areas.

Aziraphale drew an appreciative breath, and sat up to remove his own jacket and waistcoat, then tugged his bow tie undone, eyes not leaving Crowley, who stood watching him, one leg relaxed, jutting one hip forward, accentuating the bulge at the front of his jeans as he watched the angel, rapt, his own clothing forgotten for the moment.

Aziraphale moved to sit on the edge of the bed and bent to remove his shoes, but Crowley stepped forward and knelt at his feet, stilling him with one hand on his knee and a slight shake of his head. Aziraphale sat back and watched as the demon slowly removed his shoes and socks for him, then straightened and reached out to slip the undone bow tie from Aziraphale’s collar. He held it to his face for a moment, inhaling the angel’s scent on it, before setting it aside carefully. Crowley then reached out to undo the top shirt button as Aziraphale watched him, and worked his way steadily downward.

Aziraphale couldn’t help himself, he reached out to stroke Crowley’s naked shoulder as he was having his shirt undone. Crowley tugged his shirt up out of his trousers and undid the last button. Aziraphale leaned forward and pulled Crowley into another kiss, hands caressing his bare skin, now breaking out in goosebumps, feeling the fevered heat of the demon under his hands, shaking slightly.

Crowley’s hands came forward to brush up the pale curls on Aziraphale’s exposed chest, then softly slid the shirt up and off his strong shoulders. He broke off the kiss and lowered his head to press his lips to Aziraphale’s pale skin in the middle of his chest, then the hollow at the base of his neck where the clavicles met, then his shoulder, the side of his neck, his jawline, his ear, his cheek, his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips once more.

Aziraphale wriggled forward an inch or two on the side of the bed, where Crowley knelt between his thighs, and wrapped his legs around those slim hips, pressing them close together, his arms once again wrapped around Crowley’s torso and holding him tight as they kissed, unable to get enough of one another’s lips. Crowley’s body was writhing against his, then a hand was slithering down between their bodies to press against the hardness in Aziraphale’s trousers, drawing a moan from both of them at once.

Crowley stood in one graceful movement, and extended a hand to help his angel stand before him, his eyes raking Aziraphale’s beautiful body, pausing to appreciate him, before reaching for his fly, not undoing it, just holding his hands there ready, head on one side, questioning. Aziraphale nodded and kissed him again, so Crowley undid his trousers and let them fall. The angel’s hands were now at the top of his own jeans, ever so gently undoing them and sliding them down, his body following them to the floor until he was on his knees before the demon. 

Crowley’s eyes followed him down, there seemed something deeply wrong about an angel kneeling before a demon, he wanted to pull him up, to prostrate himself instead before Aziraphale, to worship his divine form. Those angelic blue eyes gazed up peacefully at him, steadying hands soft on his angular hips. “It’s ok, Crowley” Aziraphale breathed, and kissed the hollow of his stomach reverently. Crowley’s hands twining in his pale hair. 

Part of him wanted to tip his head back, close his eyes and breathe his way through the experience as he ascended to whatever heights the angel intended to take him to. The other part couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight below him, and wanted to remember it all, in case it should be that last thing he saw before heaven and hell broke down the door and annihilated them both. 

Aziraphale was so gentle, so patient, so tender. Crowley wanted to cry, hell, he did cry some more, the occasional tear splashing down onto the angel’s pale skin from above, prompting Aziraphale to reach up and stroke him in reassurance, making soothing noises as he brought Crowley to ecstacy, his legs shaking, hands seeking the solidness of the angel’s shoulders to steady him from falling once more. He drew a shuddering gasp and one hand curled tight into those blonde curls as his body shook around his release, sobbing with the sheer exhilaration of it. 

Aziraphale stood slowly, and tipped Crowley’s head onto his own shoulder, stroking his hair and murmuring meaningless syllables into his ear, interspersed with feather light kisses. Crowley clung to him like a drowning man to driftwood. He raised his golden eyes, pupils blown wide with desire, to meet the angel’s, blinking slowly, thanking him silently, pressing a deep kiss to his wet lips, tasting himself on them, shuddering at the delicious thought, then gently but firmly pressed Aziraphale back and down onto the bed, one hand on his chest, and straddled him there, gazing down at his love. 

Crowley continued to festoon the angel with a flurry of kisses, covering as much of his body as he could, hungering to taste all of him, breath hot on his skin, tongue flicking out to taste the salt sweetness of him, to make him shiver and writhe and blaspheme under his skilled ministrations. His fingers stroked across Aziraphale’s body leaving invisible trails of fire as they went, lighting his lover’s fires of lust in increasing intensity. 

Those fingers skimmed over the most sensitive areas, teased gasps from the angelic lips, pressed deep to release fireworks behind those blue eyes, teasing, pushing, preparing and loving. The angel’s legs were wrapped around his slim hips, pulling him tight and close with unspoken demand for more than his hands could provide. Crowley kissed him deeply and locked eyes with Aziraphale has he finally gave it, moving with exaggerated care so as not to hurt his lover, deeper and gentler, teeth gritted with the effort of restraint as he watched those blue eyes roll back in their sockets accompanied by decadent moans of desire and fulfilment. 

Their bodies rocked together, hot and tense, at the same time melting together, joined in as many places as they could, each seeking to absolutely consume the other. Crowley had never thought it could feel like this, not just his corporeal form and every nerve ending in it alight, but as the sensations heightened and his breaths grew ragged, he began to feel his very soul slip. 

He could feel Aziraphale’s soul bleeding out past the edges of his corporation, flaring past fingertips, pouring from his lips into Crowley’s, and surging where their bodies met together in slick heat, mingling together, blurred at the edges. Their embrace burned with invisible fire.

He opened his eyes to see their hands, fingertips touching each other - the angel’s golden aura was melting into his own dark red one, creating a bright copper shine at each point of contact. The feeling was indescribable, and was taking place at every part of them at once. His eyes met Aziraphale’s, which were blank with impending release, and all of a sudden as his own corporeal form tensed up with the imminent explosion, he saw his own aura flare behind those blue eyes, then screamed out as Aziraphale’s invaded his own in one sudden rush as they came together.

Crowley opened his eyes and they flew wide in shock as he was staring into golden serpentine orbs. He was looking into his own face. It also looked frozen in surprise. “Crowley?” his own voice asked him. He hadn’t said anything. 

“Aziraphale?” the angel’s voice came from himself. He could feel amazing sensations in his body which definitely hadn’t been that way around a few seconds ago. He was also definitely not complaining about it, however. He lifted a hand to his face, seeing the small gold signet ring on the pinkie, and understanding dawned. 

“Aziraphale, I think we just orgasmed into each other, uh, literally.”

His old body withdrew and sat up. He sighed at the loss of delicious contact and fullness, shuddering with an aftershock that he hadn’t started. Aziraphale stared at him from his own eyes. “Oh.”

They stared at each other for a few long moments, minds whirling. “You’re wearing my face…” Crowley said after a while, something dawning on him. Aziraphale gaped at him. 

“Choose our faces…oh… OH!” he beamed down at Crowley, making the demon’s features light up in a way he’d never really seen on himself, it was purely Aziraphale in that expression, and he couldn’t help but smile back, strange as it was to suddenly feel attracted to yourself. Even though the attraction had always been about the angel, not the corporation he wore. He was attracted to Aziraphale on a level that humans could never have comprehended. He was in love with the reality of him, the totality of him, in whatever form he wore. He could be a flaming mass of spinning wheels, wings and eyes for all Crowley cared, and he would still want to find ways to meld his form together with the angel somehow. He guessed he just did. They’d slipped past each other in the moment, and rather than meshing together on a spiritual plane, they’d gone too far and fallen into each other’s bodies instead. 

Crowley sat up suddenly. “Aziraphale, get my wings out, I need to test something.” He shook the white angel wings out of his back at the same time and plucked a feather, before doing the same from his own black ones on his old body. He’d need to test the black ones first before he dared try the white, as that experiment would be rather more dangerous. 

He stood and made his way through to the study. A puddle of melted Ligur still lay there next to the remains of the bucket. He pulled a face at it, he’d have to find a way to clean this up sometime. He saw a little puddle of holy water to the side, and let the black feather drop into it. It sat there, wet and unharmed. “Aziraphale, give me my wingtip.”

He grasped the black primary feather in his fingers, ready to pluck it out and separate it from the wing in an instant if this didn’t work. He met Aziraphale’s gaze. “Ready? I need to test it while it’s still attached to the demonic body, but if it starts going wrong I’ll just pull the feather so it doesn’t spread, ok?” Aziraphale nodded. 

Crowley dipped the still attached feather into the little puddle. Nothing happened. Aziraphale knelt down, and cautiously reached out a long bony finger to tentatively touch the holy water. Crowley winced, but again nothing happened. He merely had a wet finger. 

Crowley shuffled backwards hurriedly. Because that meant… he dropped the white feather into the puddle. It sizzled and fizzed into nothing. Right. Whatever it was, it followed his demonic soul. Holy water was still very much dangerous to him in Aziraphale’s body.

He plucked another white feather, then gritted his teeth and summoned a tiny lick of hellfire on one fingertip. He held the white feather in the flame and it stayed there, intact, unburned. Aziraphale handed across another black feather from the demonic corporation. Crowley held it to the flame and it immediately flared up and dissolved to ash. He winced again, and banished the fire with a flick of his wrist. 

Their eyes met again. “Do you think this might work then? It is the most likely way they’ll try to kill us.” Aziraphale asked. Crowley shrugged. 

“What other choice do we have? It does seem to fit with the prophecy and Agnes hasn’t led us wrong yet.”

Aziraphale stood closer to him and touched his face. It felt weird. They each wanted to kiss the other, but were effectively about to kiss themselves. Crowley mentally shrugged. It was still his angel in there, besides, he was curious. He kissed him, he kissed himself. It was still beautiful, he wondered if that was wrong. He lifted off. “Shall we test if we can swap back ok?” Aziraphale grinned at him with his own seductive smile. “If this is what happens every time we achieve orgasm, it could get interesting.” 

Crowley laughed. “Now I know what it feels like, I don’t think that’s essential, here…” He took the angel’s hand in his own, and pushed his aura out, seeking along the lines of his fingers, into Aziraphale’s, pushing his soul across the contact back into his old body, feeling the angel’s soul already filling it, making space for him so that for a brief moment they shared the same body. He almost orgasmed on the spot at the overwhelming sensation, before Aziraphale hurriedly got the idea and shifted his own soul out and across back into his own corporation with a shudder. 

They looked at each other, back in the right bodies. Ok, so this was possible. He sighed with relief. He led Aziraphale back to the bedroom. “Let’s get some sleep, Angel, this body needs some rest, we can swap back in the morning. Besides, if we get up to anything else before then it’s too weird making love to my own body like that.”

They snuggled down together, Crowley resting his head on Aziraphale’s warm chest and nuzzling into his neck with a contented happy hum. Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s red hair, as the demon in turn stroked the curls on the angel’s chest as he drifted off. 

They did wake up once or twice, and made love again, tender and quiet in the night, before falling asleep again wrapped in one another’s arms. Now they had a handle on it, they didn’t swap bodies every time, but as dawn broke, they woke, kissed, and did again. Ready to face whatever was coming for them. 


End file.
